One.

So today is my baby's first birthday. One year ago today, at 2:25 pm, they pulled this little angel from my tummy. As I lay there on the operating table, arms stretched out to the sides, with my view obstructed by the sterile hospital greens hung in front of my face, they pulled her out, and then up into the air, so I could see her. Finally. The little girl who, just moments earlier, was performing more of her daily pirouettes inside of my tummy.

"She's so CUTE!" were my very first words upon seeing her. I'll never, ever, forget that moment.

All the moments since have flown by. It seems like just yesterday she was a little peanut, tucked into the bed between her daddy and me. So comfy cozy there and right at home. We thought it would be impossible to move her to her own crib and, to be honest, we took our time doing that because we liked having her with us. But, she eventually did go to her bed and she did just fine. Now I wish I could have her back.

Did I mention she began walking at 9 months? Walking!! I don't even know if we got any video of her crawling before she got up on her own two feet...and took off running. Never looking back.

And now she is one. No longer "zero", as her big sisters would say. She is one. A toddler, not a baby. And I'm not a spring chicken, myself, anymore. No more babies for me. No more peanuts in the bed.

I'm so proud of my little Coco and I'm so grateful for the fact that she continues to meet her healthy milestones with pizzazz. But, to be honest with you, I wasn't very eager to get out of bed this morning. I didn't really want this day to come.

One.

{I love you Colie-Coco}.

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